


Sound, Heat and Laughter

by AboardAMoose



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Meta, Sexual Content, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 17:35:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AboardAMoose/pseuds/AboardAMoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard Armitage and Lee Pace are just about to doze off... when those pesky boys Dean O'Gorman and Aidan Turner send Lee a text. With an interesting link to some interesting writings. Although Richard tries to ignore it, Lee reacts rather well to those interesting writings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sound, Heat and Laughter

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Meta.
> 
> I am well aware that Richard Armitage and Lee Pace are not in a relationship, this was gratuitous and a reflection of my perverted mind, not any reality.

As with every other day spent beneath a mass of make-up, clothes and props the weight of a small child, it had been a long one. Although their cast-mates might be inclined to make lewd jokes about their propensity to sleep in the same trailer Richard and Lee's evenings were as short as possible. Dinner snaffled from the tent, a glass of wine, an hour of unfamiliar New Zealand telly, and they were ready for bed. But to sleep, little more. They had to be sensible. Their careers came first.

It didn't mean they didn't appreciate one another. Indeed, there was nothing Richard appreciated more than the sight of Lee's lean body, emerging from the small shower closet, dressed in nothing more than his pants. The younger man would roll into bed still damp, skin flushed from the shower that fluctuated between burning and freezing, a trickle or a blast worthy of the Falls of Rauros.

At times, the contented exhaustion would be forgotten, and they would stumble into the trailer hungry for the taste of the other's skin, or on one memorable, terrifying occasion, drag the other into a pub toilet, to grasp at each other as quietly as they possibly could. 

But Richard was happy. He was happy to trade cuddles on the sofa and kisses in the bed. It was better to sleep peacefully and savour their night-time trysts when they came, than have rushed, unsatisfactory sessions as if they had just discovered the word 'sex'.

But the need to sleep did not always win out.

On this night, they had settled down, said their goodnights and turned out the lights. Outside, the amber lamps filtered through the thin trailer curtains, and they closed their eyes against it, used to it and the constant rumble of conversations from those crossing through the park. But after only five minutes with their eyes closed, their peace was disturbed by the buzzing of Lee's phone.

“Ignore it?” Richard suggested in a mutter. He missed his sleep – and knew there was never just one text.

“It might be important,” Lee replied, sigh as resentful as Richard's.

They had not been touching – they were both too well-acquainted with the awkwardness of the non-waist slung arm when it came to spooning, but Richard had been curled towards Lee's body. He squeezed his eyes tight against the intrusion of the harsh light as the phone lit up the room beyond the protection of his eyelids.

In his own personal darkness, he listened to the click of keys, a pause, and then an intake of breath. “Oh my...”

Richard made a half-hearted hum of curiosity.

“It's the brats,” Lee affectionately named Richard's on-stage nephews. “Aidan appears to have introduced Dean to something called 'fanfiction' and they've been kind enough to share.”

Unable to restrain a groan, Richard cracked open an eyelid. “I know what it is. I'd been hoping they, you and everyone else would remain blissfully unaware.” His time as Guy of Gisborne had introduced him to a range of disturbing things – from Keith Allen's sense of humour to the over-active imaginations of sexually frustrated adolescents with too much time on their hands.

“Interesting,” was Lee's only careful response.

“Read on if you want, but I'm going to sleep.” Lee had the luxury of fewer scenes than Richard, therefore fewer pick-ups and fewer days on set. Richard did not have that luxury. He rolled over and pulled the blankets of to his shoulders but Lee did not move, and the light from the phone did not dim.

At first, Richard did his best to concentrate on falling back to sleep. And that was all well and good. Until he realised that Lee was reading... erotica, smut, porn. Words Richard himself would rarely use aloud. Yes, it was... Porn about their friends, on them, on him, and that was disturbing, but it was still porn.

And porn had the ability to stir certain... feelings.

Immediately, Richard was hit with a hypersensitivity to every sound.

The mechanical click of the slow scrolling was a constant. A slight switch in Lee's position made him jump. A breath exhaled through his nose in a laugh a minute later startled him just his much.

And then, as expected, Lee's started to come shallower, faster. Richard might not have noticed it were he not listening for that exact sound. And as Lee's breath became more and more strained, Richard just lay, taught and tense. Listening. Just listening. Listening to Lee's breath and the pounding of his own blood, thudding in his ears.

Each moment seemed to take hours to pass, in heartbeats and the quiet scroll. His entire focus was on every one of Lee's movements, until finally, finally, after far too long, there was the rustle of duvet fabric as Lee's hand slipped beneath the covers. A softer rustle, unlike the crinkle of crisp sheets, more the coarse brush of skin over roughly haired skin and softer fabric.

His hands were in his pants.

The realisation that his bedmate was aroused, and doing something about it, lit a flare of heat in Richard's stomach. He was touching himself.

He listened hard and he knew that the near silence was the slow exploration of Lee's fingers across his own skin. He knew the touch well on his own body, indulgent to the extreme. Richard's cock began to harden as he lay there, at the thought of those long fingers skimming over skin.

The scrolling continued.

Soon, it became clear that the teasing exploration was not enough. The hand and the duvet shifted again as Lee moved his elbow. The touches were still slow, but more rhythmic now.

And then Lee whimpered.

Richard squeezed his eyes closed against the arousal pounding in his blood. Surely Lee had to know that he was listening? Surely he knew what those hints of sounds did to him? He was touching himself just feet away, and Richard could not move. He struggled not to groan himself.

The build was slow, Lee's voice gradually increasing, the slightly wet sound of his hand movements quickening too. Richard could not move without making it clear to Lee that he was awake and listening to something that felt so intensely private, their relationship non-withstanding.

But then Lee did something that Richard could not ignore. He moaned Richard's name. The older man could not resist a moment more, not with his cock heavy and hot between his legs. He wanted to touch and be touch – and he would do both those things. He twisted over and grabbed at Lee's shoulder.

“You...” He had not thought of what to say.

But Lee laughed, teasing, light. “Took you long enough.”

Irritation spiking, Richard growled. But other things were more important. He cupped Lee's neck to haul him into an eager, heated kiss. Lips and tongue, and two hot bodies of identical height pressed up tight and close. He needed to touch the man that lay beneath him, feel the hot skin and make Lee moan, but more than that... He wanted to watch him drive himself wild.

It took all the resilience that he possessed to drag himself away, gasping. “Do it.”

“Do what?” Lee didn't understand. He looked so vulnerable, lost and confused, unable to process why Richard would press against him so eagerly one moment, and draw away the next. “Rich...”

“I'm going to sit here, and watch you.” Richard carefully enunciated each word.

His voice was low and rough, even for him, but Lee's voice bottomed out in the groan he gave at Richard's words. His eyes fluttered, rolling back. When he saw that Richard was to stick by his word and keep his hands to himself, he threw himself, slightly pouting, against the mattress. Once again, he slipped his hand between his legs, and began to pull at himself again. Gradually, he relaxed beneath Richard's dark gaze, and sank instead into the pleasure. His hips rose upwards, rolling to meet his hand as he pulled at himself, back arching, breath quickening. Quickly enough, he was gasping and groaning with an abandon that had been restrained whilst he had been forced to stifle himself, cries wrenched from his chest. 

Each sound multiplied Richard's arousal, but he restrained himself to light touches, torturing himself as well as his bed-mate. Not until Lee was done.

“I was – ah hah – getting read-ready to start reading to you-oh Richard fuck!” Lee jerked violently, and threw his hand out towards Richard.

He was getting close, but Richard was silent in his punishment. And soon – too soon, astonishingly fast – Lee was coming with a shout. He collapsed down against the covers, and finally Richard allowed himself to move.

The first slide of his thumb to the sensitive tip of his cock was exquisite. Pain and pleasure and everything right. His breath came in stuttered lungfuls as he ran his thumb round and over again. His eyes closed, as the images of Lee bucking and moaning ran through his mind, perfect and – oh! A hand joined his, squeezing and pumping, though a little slower through exhaustion than normal. It didn't take long for those broad hands to bring him off, knuckles white as he grasped at the sheets.

Lee rolled over, triumphant and wicked, the emotions glimmering in his eyes.

“We should thank those boys of yours.”

A breathless laugh was all Richard could manage for a minute, still glorying in the aftershocks. Lee ran a smattering of light kisses over his chest like rain. 

Post-orgasm, Richard's inhibitions were somewhat lowered, and he ran his fingers through Lee's short hair affectionately. “What were you reading?”

“The news,” Lee replied.

“The news?” Richard repeated incredulously.

“BBC News,” confirmed Lee, chuckling. He looked up from Richard's chest, chin leaning on his ribs, with the most depraved grin ever managed by a human. 

It took a moment for Richard to conclude, “Liar.”

“Yup!” Lee leant back up, and placed a short, triumphant kiss on Richard's lips. “You're better off not knowing. Your mind couldn't cope.”

Richard shook his head wearily, as the bizarre man he shared his bed with flopped back down on his side. “Goodnight then?” he attempted.

“Night Richard!” The voice was light and cheery, and Richard was entirely bemused as he shuffled down into a more comfortable position. But one hand crept across the mattress, and looped over Richard's wrist, in quiet affection.

Richard smiled as he closed his eyes once more.


End file.
